


Eivor and her two of the Hidden Ones

by Sunako_Akuma



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mentions of mental illness (very lightly), One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunako_Akuma/pseuds/Sunako_Akuma
Summary: This is a collection of One Shots that I wrote and simply was not interested in posting as One Shots.This will only be featuring stories with the three of them together. Be is as friends or something else.
Relationships: Eivor & Basim Ibn Ishaq, Eivor & Hytham & Basim Ibn Ishaq, Eivor & Hytham (Assassin's Creed), Eivor/Basim Ibn Ishaq, Eivor/Hytham (Assassin's Creed), Eivor/Hytham/Basim Ibn Ishaq
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	1. Healing

**Author's Note:**

> Some stories might be AU, might not. I will not update regulary at all and will be marked as finished. I have two in total written, the other I will post the next couple of days. I'll update the tags as I go. 
> 
> Maybe I should also mention, should a story that bugs me for long enough to collect a large amount words it will get posted as a One-Shot instead of the collection, this is more like, smaller (like smaller than 1500 - 2000 words?) Because it deserves it at that point.
> 
> (Basic) [and somewhat horrible] Summary of the first story:  
> A deeper look into Eivor after the return of her brother along with the two strangers.

At first Eivor wasn’t sure what she should think of either of the two strange men that returned with her brother. Their clothes were not practical for this cold. She knew light material when she saw it and theirs was best suited for desert or warmer climate, but definitely not Norway. The smaller of the two shivered when as icy windblast swept through Fornburg. They were strange. Both kept to themselves during the feast, preferring to stray from Tekla’s too strong mead. A wise decision, Eivor noted, as Dag, who was already more than 3 horns in, jumped at one of the other raiders yelling something and usually Dag could hold his drink better than the average man or woman. Sigurd was sitting with the strangers and talking about something, only the older one, the one her brother had introduced as Basim, answered really, while Hytham was eating from a bowl with gusto, either ignoring both men by his side or simply more interested in the food than the conversation. Or perhaps he was simply still cold and tried to warm himself with food instead of ale.

Hours after the feast, warm and comfortable in her bed, away from the longhouse, to her brother’s surprise, she studied the blade he had given her. The golden metal gleamed in an interesting way and the sharpness of the blade had really surprised her. She had never seen a blade as sharp as this one before. Letting the blade snap out and back in for a while, getting familiar with the way it functioned, it made Eivor wonder for what would anyone need such sharp blade. It hit her later than it should have, especially the way Basim had her stab the dummies. With a last snap, Eivor let the mechanism for the blade rest, blade hidden away, unable to harm anyone like this. Assassination. The art of killing without fighting, Alvis had once explained, when one of the boy’s she grew up with, who had heard the word and wanted to know what it meant. They had all scoffed at that. What was a kill when one didn’t have to do anything, give their opponent the chance to go to Valhalla? Eivor had often thought about killing Kjotve. Nearly every possible way. Her preferred one was that he died by her hands in a battle, proving once and for all that she was the better, the stronger. But other ways had crossed her mind. Why let an oath breaker like him go to Valhalla, die with an axe in his hand. Poisoning, ambush … assassination. Killing him in his sleep when he never had the chance of fighting. A part of her had been revelling in it, another disgusted by it. Neither side ever won and Eivor simply decided if he died by her hands, she didn’t care how anymore. So many times, he got away. She growled and got to her feet, throwing on her armour. She’d never be able to sleep anymore, not tonight. She never could when he was on her mind. The night was icy, far worse than during the day, but it never compared to the cold when she was 9, fighting for her life against a wolf, broken by witnessing her parent’s death. No winter of Norway compared to it. Never had and never would manage.

“You are going to chase wraiths away with that look on your face.” She came to a stop, starring at one of two people she would have never expected outside in this weather.

Basim, right?” He nodded; hands positioned in a way she found interesting. Fingertips touching each other in front of his body, but nothing else. She knew why he did it. To show his hands. That he was ‘unarmed’, wasn’t a threat. Likely it was a habit by now. They fell into silence, only the light of her torch around them and the full moon shining down.

“Hate does nasty things with a person doesn’t it?” Eivor snorted, knowing very well now that Sigurd had babbled about her. Once upon a time, she would have preened at that, now everything seemed hollow, empty, lifeless. Even Sigurd’s praises were hollow, something that had once been something she strived for. She often tried recalling a time when everything seemed lighter, but had soon realised that the world had begun to dull that way by the time she was ten.

“There was a time, where I wanted to best him in a duel. Him against me and win. That was the only way I wanted him dead. Knowing he lost to the child of two people he killed and knowing if he hadn’t done it, it might have never come to that. Now, I don’t care how he dies. I want it to be by my hand. That is the only thing really left.” Basim said nothing for a while, simply was there. It helped in a strange way. Telling a nearly stranger, her true feelings, knowing he had no background to judge her upon.

“The worst is when everyone around you tells you, to give up. To stop. To leave it be. Let it rest. Forget.” The hidden pain in his voice made Eivor feel sympathy and at the same time gratefulness. Basim understood. He understood on a level no one else had ever had or ever tried to. He felt the same as her.

“It is the only thing left.” He hummed and Eivor took a step closer to the man, he let it happen. Their arms brushing every now and then when one of them shifted slightly.

In the end Eivor got her duel and Kjotve the Cruel at her feet, dead. A part of her, what was left of that child in her, had expected the world to feel different immediately. It didn’t. Hours later it did, just not in the way she hoped. If anything, the world seemed duller. Eivor starred out into the fjord for hours, Sigurd or Randvi checking in on her periodically. Hytham had managed to sneak past two vikingr that were watching over him, down the mountain from Valka’s hut to the village, injured and had since spent hours bundled up in thick blankets, sipping a bit of Tekla’s mead every now and then, sitting next to her. A part of her had been pissed at him jumping in, another utterly surprised by it, the largest was terrified for a friend dying by something she could have prevented, had she just been better years ago. He landed lucky and only had cracked a few ribs maybe broke one or two. But she was glad for his presence. He didn’t talk too much, not at the beginning, until the silence became extremely uncomfortable and he had apologised for jumping in, but he hadn’t wanted to see her hurt anymore. It had made her smile, for the first time in years it felt real. His genuine kindness and worry made him like a torch in a very dark existence. At some point Basim had joined them. Bringing three horns of mead with him, honeyed Eivor noted when she took a large gulp of it, noticing the stare of either men, who sipped the drink. Then another smile forced itself on her lips.

It was later that day, at night when she slept in her bed, the furs felt strangely lighter, it was easier to breath, easier to fall asleep.


	2. Sharing a 'bed'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Muliple scenarios in which sleeping in close proximitry let the three of them grow closer and more comfortable with each other.

It wasn’t often that it was this warm when she slept. Eivor opened her eyes, starring into the night sky, frowning. Sleep drunk it took her a moment to remember where they were again. Somewhere in the middle of the ocean between Norway and (hopefully) England. Then she looked down to her left side, seeing Hytham’s unruly hair in the weak light. If there was one thing the drengr would have never pegged the young assassin as was being cuddly in his sleep. Basim had chosen her other side, probably fully aware of that habit of his student and very glad to pawn him off to onto an unknowing victim. In the silent of the night and his close proximity she could hear the light rattle in Hytham’s breathing. It had gotten better since from the day of his injury, but still had ways to improve. Buried under far more furs, linen and even an unused sailcloth than all the others used combined, Hytham still clung to her as if in need for even more warmth. And while his breathing might have woken her up, if it had been worse, this time that definitely hadn’t woken her up. The chilling of her right side though spoke for another possibility. Starring at Basim’s back, she wondered if he had woken up and turned. Shrugging with her one free arm, Eivor closed her eyes again. It was warm enough with Hytham at her side, who really felt like a nicely heated stone by now and allowed his rattling breath and warmth lull her back to sleep.

* * *

The next night she was been woken up, by Hytham’s cough. He had a hard time breathing in air, coupled with a nasty cramping of his muscle around his injury was causing him immense pain and panic. Hytham had startled her awake to help him in his panic either unaware she wasn’t Basim or deliberately her. She had patted his back, careful of his wound, gave him water out of a flask to drink to calm him down and after a few minutes got him to breath normally again. He curled up with her again, listening to her heartbeat and the waves around them, while she let her fingers run through his hair, trying to sooth him further. Neither had slept for hours and Eivor was rather sure that Basim had been awake the second Hytham had started coughing and woke up her. Later, a few hours before sunrise, Hytham had fallen asleep, hands clutching at her clothes like a child did. She too ended up drifting off to the familiar sounds of the ocean. Before she had fully fallen asleep, she felt someone pull up the furs and make sure they both were fully covered. But she couldn’t remember who.

* * *

The night that followed, Eivor had stirred awake for a short few moments, when the warmth to her left had shifted away for a few seconds, before returning. She had pressed herself back and felt the body stiffen for a few heartbeats before relaxing. Then she drifted back off.

* * *

The morning of the day, they arrived in England, Eivor woke up to Hytham curled up to her. Head under her chin, arms around her waist, both on their sides. Then she had rather fast noticed the warmth at her back, a second arm around her waist, a warm breath against her neck. She only then had realised she had been using an arm as a pillow for some time. Turning slightly to look back to confirm who it was, Eivor smiled, when she saw Basim, deeply asleep for once.

* * *

The first time they had shared a bed in Raventhrope was when the feast hollered for so long, that Eivor remembered why she had been so desperate to move out of the longhouse in Fornburg in the first place. She wanted peace. Basim and Hytham both had retreated hours ago, long before Tekla brought out one of the stronger barrels of mead. Eivor stumbled out of the longhouse towards the tent that they had set up for the two of them. She nearly fell in, but Basim must have heard her … very un-stealthy approach and wanted to check. He caught her and must have realised the problem very fast. Not that, that would be any sort of accomplishment. She reeked of mead and the feast was loud. The older assassin had promptly undressed of her armour and then dumped her next to Hytham. Who had simply turned in his sleep and within 5 minutes made himself very comfortable at her side as if they were back on the longship again. Basim though, Eivor could hear him shuffle around the tent, maybe placing her armour and weapons aside, so neither her nor Hytham would fall over them, before returning and joining them in the makeshift bed.

* * *

Valka had tried to keep Eivor in her hut, at the very least for the night, but she had no desire to stay. The cuts to her arm and leg stung and ached, but not after what she had seen in that vision, did she want to stay there any longer. Even if it had been weeks since it. At night Eivor fast noticed the main issue why Valka probably was so insistent on her staying. She could barely move her right arm or left leg enough to undress herself, never mind taking care of her wounds. Standing in front of the bureau, Eivor had noticed herself that every time something wasn’t right, she came here. Maybe it was because neither Hytham nor Basim judged her. She knew them well enough to know that their past was equally bad or worse than hers. Before she could knock, Hytham opened the door and was about to greet her, when he saw her holding her right arm defensively to her body and was leaning on her right leg. He grabbed her left arm and gently pulled her in. Her limping made a loud enough noise for Basim to wake up and turn around on the larger bed and check what was going on. Eivor’s gaze then fell onto the smaller bed in the edge, where she saw her wolf happily sleeping. She had no time to ponder about that, when Hytham lead her to the bed, where Basim just sat up making enough room for Eivor, sitting her down next to his mentor. They made fast work of the buckles and ties of her amour and Eivor’s glance fell onto their right hands where they were missing their ring finger. Neither had told much about it, Hytham simply telling her it was saver that way. For them. She had accepted that, letting them tend to her wounds, gently pealing off the bandages that stuck to the wounds, Hytham far gentler than Basim who was quicker though. They redressed them and Eivor wanted to ask about where Hytham would sleep, considering her wolf stole his bed, but fell asleep to exhaustion before she could ask. The next morning, she woke up, warm and comfortable. In their arms, Basim on the left, Hytham on the right. She was fully relaxed and she felt that they were too.

* * *

By the time they had conquered all of England, Eivor probably hadn’t slept much in her bed in Ravensthorpe. The few nights she slept in hers were usually nightmare plagued and made her hide away in the Bureau by the time the sun rose. It was simply… more practical sleeping in the bureau to begin with. She slept better, Basim slept more than 2 hours a night and Hytham would sleep through a night without waking up. It was a win for all of them. Eivor heard the mumblings in the village, heard what people thought. That Sigurd should make her stay in the longhouse before she ended up with a child out of a wedlock. Eivor mainly rolled her eyes, Sigurd as well. He was well aware of the bad sleeping habits the three of them had and if they were better this way, Sigurd would take it. He and Randvi agreed that a moody Eivor was much more than anyone of them could handle on a daily basis and Sigurd liked a relaxed Basim that slept through a night, much more than the other. Laying in bed, Basim as usual on her left, Hytham on her right, Eivor relaxed with such ease, she could only ever achieve with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of AU, though I personally would rather call it Canon divergence. I genuinely don't know if the gods are present in them or not. Maybe that’s your personal preference. Though maybe I'll kind of make a longer version of this with more detail as to what they and or the gods think. That would be quite interesting, considering the dynamics of the gods as well.
> 
> Specifically, for all the Eivor / Hytham shippers that may read this, I'd like to give a little information on my latest work. So far, I have written over 14 000 words, yes it got out of hand, to a story about them. So yes, if I need a break on that and write something more in this collection, I shall leave more, maybe the summery.
> 
> To everyone who just read all of this, I thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Edit 23.01.2020: Rafael Regnard, also known as Regnard13 on tumblr drew this amazing art of Basim, Eivor and Hytham. The art he makes is amazing. Again I thank you for drawing this amazing piece and letting me link to it.   
> https://regnard13.tumblr.com/post/641008577232912384/sleeping-beauties-inspired-by-this-fanfic-if-you

**Author's Note:**

> In this Eivor suffers from depresion. It is mentioned very lightly, tagged as such. I kind of don't quite believe Eivor's not suffering of anything (mental wise other than the visions) like in the game, other than sadness and grief. Even less after what happend to her as a child. No matter how strong someone is, there ought to be more than what Ubisoft touched there.


End file.
